Hot Salsa
by purrpickle
Summary: Forced to babysit on the night of a party, Santana's not that bummed. However, after some some revealing texts, she's suddenly determined to go experience a drunken Rachel all for herself... If only to figure out her sudden obsession with salsa. Pezberry.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I do not own Glee nor the characters within. This was originally supposed to be a Scrap, but again, it got away from me and didn't want to be contained. Note, this _will_ be random. And yes, a familiar plot bunny struck again. Dun dun dun.

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><p>Santana raised an eyebrow. The world had to be ending because Rachel had just drunk texted her. <em>Santana! <em>_I __forgive __you __for __sleeping __with __Finn. __You __want __to __know __why?_

Oh, this should be good. She could care less about the apology, but she was interested in hearing Rachel's reasoning. _Not __that __I __need __your __apology, __but __whatever. __Hit __me._

It took over five minutes to get a text back, and when she got it, Santana could see why. _Because __you__'__re __smoking __hot. __Oh, __kind __of __like __those __cigars __you __smoke. __What __do __those __taste __like? __I __don__'__t __think __I __want __to __try __one, __for __my __vocal __chords __and __lungs, __but __they __sure __make __you __sound __so __sexy. __Have __I __ever __told __you __how __sexy __you __are?_

Santana's eyebrows rocketed up her forehead again. Jesus. How much beer had Puck plied her with? Now she was almost disappointed she'd had to miss his party. However, before she finished replying with, _No. __Tell __me __more, _her phone vibrated with another text.

_You're sexy like some really spicy salsa. Full of lots of different ingredients and hot to the tongue, but delicious and not racially stereotypical as that might sound. You're just hot. Really really hot._

Oh my god. 'Racially stereotypical'. Even drunk, Rachel still had her vocabulary. And had she even misspelled anything? Quickly flipping through her texts, Santana snorted and shook her head. The girl probably obsessively read over the texts before sending them.

…Which asked the question: if Rachel had enough sobriety to proofread herself, then she'd be realizing what she was saying, right?

Hmm. Santana tapped her lower lip. Looking over at her two younger siblings who appeared to be almost asleep as the end of the movie they were watching flickered in the darkened living room, an insanely _evil_ idea took root in her mind.

Using the correct remote controls to shut off the DVD player and TV, Santana slid off of the couch and padded over to Cesar and Mariel who were both slumped against the arms of the other couch, "Alright, c'mon you two, time to get up and get ready for bed."

"What time is it?" Cesar mumbled, dragging himself up.

What time _was _it? She glanced quickly at her phone and dropped it onto the coffee table, poking Mariel. "It's almost ten. C'mon. If Mamí and Papí knew I was letting you guys stay up this late, they'll kick my ass. So, up up!"

Her sister squeaked and pulled the blanket she was under over her head. "You just want us to go to bed so you can talk to your _boyfriend_," burbled out from the blanket.

"Excuse me?" Santana stared down at the lump, mentally crossing her arms.

"You've been texting him for the past half hour," Mariel giggled, briefly pulling the blanket down to grin cheekily at her older sister, "And now you want to be alone so you can talk _dir-ty _to him~"

Santana shook her head, eyes towards the ceiling. "Ay dios mio; you're full of crap," she yanked the blanket away, throwing it behind her, "And you're too young to think of that kind of stuff."

"Am _not_!" Mariel protested, swinging the pillow she'd been hugging at her.

Blinking at the edge of the pillow that managed to hit her face despite throwing her shoulder up to block it, Santana let out a low growl and pounced on her sister, calling out, "Cesar, grab me the pillows from the other – hah! – couch!" Laughing as Mariel squealed and twisted under her relentless tickling, Santana let out a startled protest when Cesar used the pillow she'd told him to get on _her _instead of Mariel. "Oy! Pendejo! Traitor!" Abandoning her sister for the moment, Santana turned and launched herself at her brother. Locking her arms around his waist, she hoisted him up so she could toss him at the sofa and onto Mariel. Smirking at their combined squawks, she swiped his abandoned pillow from the floor.

She held it threateningly in the air. "Surrender!"

"Never!" Mariel retorted dramatically, pushing hair back from her face after shoving Cesar off her legs. She reclaimed the pillow that had dropped onto the floor, looking insanely cute with her stubborn expression.

Santana moved her gaze to Cesar. "And you?"

Looking around for a weapon of his own, both Cesar and Santana realized at the same time that on the armchair about a foot away from the sofa, a perfect pillow waited for someone to scoop it up. Trying to keep her attention on both of her siblings, Santana knew she needed to get to that pillow first if she wanted to win.

With Mariel willing to cover her brother's back, Cesar looking back and forth from his older sister and the armchair, and Santana tensing for any possible attack or movement, the living room was full of vibrating expectation.

And then Cesar made a desperate lunge, Santana leaped a second later, and Mariel threw herself after, madly whipping her pillow at everything in front of her. Reaching the pillow first, Cesar tucked it solidly into his body, half-rolling, half-dropping over the other side. Catching one of his feet with her free hand, Santana grunted as her lower stomach impacted the hard arm, grunting again when a heavy pillow was repeatedly slammed into the back of her head, courtesy of her sister. Struggling to hold onto her brother and her pillow under the onslaught, she growled out, "Oh, now it's _on_," when Cesar twisted and added his newly acquired weapon to the attack. Pushing herself, she dropped her brother's foot, tucked her pillow into her stomach, and somersaulted backwards far enough to twist and start whacking Mariel, Cesar a second later.

A loud cleared throat and the flicking on of the living room light put an almost immediate stop to the assault. Blinking furiously to acclimate herself, Santana groaned. "And what did I tell you?" she stated loudly, dropping the pillow and taking the ones her siblings held, "No, you _can__'__t _stay up, and it's off to bed for you!"

Giggling nervously, Cesar and Mariel chorused a couple of good nights to Maria and Carlos Lopez, Mariel sticking her tongue out at Santana and Cesar grinning cheekily at her before scampering out of the room.

Placing the pillows back where they came from, Santana gave her parents an innocent smile, "Hi, Mamí, Papí. How was the movie?"

"Mmhm," Maria gave her daughter a pointed look, Carlos just shaking his head with an amused look on his face. "It was fine," he offered, "A bit too mushy for my tastes."

Maria rolled her eyes. "And _who _was it," she gave her daughter a long-suffering look, "Who was crying at the end?"

"I had something in my eye!" Carlos protested, turning to lead his wife out of the room. Pausing to wink at Santana, he mouthed, 'keys are in the duck' before continuing, "And besides, _you _were the one rooting for him to end up with _her_ in the end."

Maria allowed her husband to distract her, waiting until they were almost all the way out of the room to sign, upside down and behind her back, 'money's in the car; be responsible'. "You were too, dear, and you know it."

"Fine, fine, whatever you say."

Waiting until they were down the hall, Santana smirked widely to herself, elated at the sudden freedom, bending down to swipe her phone from the coffee table. Sending a quick text off to Puck to tell him she'd be on her way, she strode up to her room, wanting to get ready to leave as soon as she could. She still had her drunken Rachel text plans, after all.

Quickly changing into her favorite _fuck __me_ dress and pumps, reapplying her makeup and running a brush through her hair, Santana smirked at her smokin' hot reflection, grabbed her purse, fished the car keys out of the wooden duck by the front door, made the appropriate 'pretending to sneak out of the house' noises for her parents' benefit, and was off.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Remember I said this story was going to be random? I wasn't lying. *grins*

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><p>It only took her about twenty minutes to get to Puck's house. Looking at her reflection in the rearview mirror, she decided to put another layer of clear lip gloss on, making a kiss at herself. Then, her sultriest smirk in place on her face, she clicked her way up to Puck's door and let herself in. Immediately, the scent of alcohol and sweaty teens assaulted her. Santana wrinkled her nose; already that early in the night? Well, if everyone else was like Rachel, things were probably going to be <em>incredibly <em>entertaining as soon as she got her hands on some liquid gold.

However, dropping her purse off in Puck's room was first on her agenda. Pushing the door open, she finally settled on near but out of the way of where Tina and Mike were getting some definite freak on. Stopping a second to judge their techniques, Santana left them with a pleasantly surprised expression on her face, her opinion of Tina raising just that little bit. Maybe there was something to that lame ass vampire thing after all.

Next was the kitchen. Running into a stumbling Kurt and Blaine in the hall, hands groping anywhere they could and mouths locked together so tightly it was almost a surprise they could see their way at all, Santana was kind enough to shove them into Puck's sister's bedroom. Even if a Mike/Tina/Kurt/Blaine foursome would be one for the record books, and afford _years _of cruel teasing, Santana was aware how new Kurt and Blaine's relationship really was. Hell, this was probably their first real grab ass time. So why not Christian it in an eight year old girl's pink bed?

Finally making it to the kitchen, Santana affixed the sultry smirk on again after hearing a couple of muffled voices coming from inside. Finding Puck, Lauren's glasses on his face, digging in his refrigerator, Brittany cuddled up to his back, Santana raised her eyebrows. "Well, bitches," she announced her presence, pushing the refrigerator door into Puck's head, "I's be here now."

"Oy!" Puck grunted, falling to the side. Pulling Brittany down with him, the blonde burst into a fit of giggles, detaching from his back and jumping at Santana. "San!" she yelled happily, thrusting two very perky bra-clad breasts into her face, "You're finally here! Did you run into Lord Tubbington on your way in here?"

"No, not here," Santana coughed, letting her best friend's chest stay longer than it probably should have pressed up against her, "Is he loose again?"

Brittany sighed dramatically, "No, but he promised he was going to try out his new jet pack even without me to oversee it," and Santana took advantage of it, only moving back when something hard and unyielding ran into her thigh.

"_Hey_!" she yelped, automatically kicking back. Hoping to hit Artie where it would hurt most, the cheeky bastard had already rolled himself backwards.

"Oh no! Was that the lamp again?" the boy slurred, only perking up when Brittany abandoned Santana for her boyfriend, hopping onto his lap.

Rolling her eyes, Santana shook her head. "And I'm still sober _because_…?"

As if answering her question, a Dixie cup filled with something incredibly hard was thrust in front of her face. Courtesy of Sam, "Heyy, Santana! Are we still dating?", Santana had already thrown back half of it before he could hand her another cup that was probably a chaser. "Silly little Sammy," Santana purred, lifting one finger to point at his face; as he became cross-eyed, trying to keep it in focus, she smirked and poked his nose, "I's be too awesome to need that shit. And fuck, ask me again by the end of the party. If I needs your guppy lips, I'll find you."

Nodding, Sam wandered off in the direction of the living room, mumbling something about finding Mercedes. Well, that could be… _Interesting_. Shrugging, happy to be starting to feel the fire in her belly and throat, Santana knocked back the rest of the cup.

Puck, _just _managing to get up from the kitchen floor, his lack of mobility probably not helped by both the alcohol and Lauren's glasses, squinted at her. "Oh! Satan," he grinned, leaving the refrigerator door open, "What can I get for you?" Then, rubbing his head, he asked, "Ow. Did the fridge just try to kill me?"

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><p>Once sufficiently equipped with some of Puck's secret stash, feeling a very nice buzz permeating her body, Santana decided it was time to find Rachel. Trying the basement (where Sam had evidently <em>found <em>Mercedes and they were grinding, which, honestly, creeped Santana out some), and then the living room (where Finn and Quinn were doing _nothing _that could be construed of as sexual, _ohh_ _no_), then in the master bedroom (where Lauren, Brittany, Artie, and a newly arrived Puck were yelling at the television, which was playing one of the Puppy Bowls), Santana frowned. If she wasn't in any of _those _rooms, nor in the ones Santana had been in earlier, where could she be?

Making her way back to the living room, Santana looked past the two 'celibate' teens towards the door that led to the backyard. Ahah! It was cracked open. Making a face at the faces Finn and Quinn were making, Santana slipped through the door. Waiting for her eyes to acclimate to the darkness, she slid it shut behind her. Now, where Rachel be…?

As her eyes acclimated, so did her ears. Becoming aware of drunken singing coming from… above? …Santana frowned. That was most definitely Rachel's voice, but Santana couldn't _see _her. And Puck's backyard wasn't that big. What gave?

Still, following the sound of what, humorously, was _Tik Tok_, Santana cautiously made her way farther into the yard. Clutching her drink close to her chest so she wouldn't spill it, she stopped in front of the tree in the back corner. Oh, right, she put a hand out to make sure the lighter object on the trunk _was _part of the makeshift ladder she remembered from years ago, Puck had a tree house. Trust Rachel to find it in the middle of a drinking binge. "Rachel! Hey! Hobbit!" Santana hissed, not wanting to start climbing if it turned out the girl _wasn't _in it.

The singing slowly trickled off. "Santana?" a drink-heavy voice called down.

Well, she was up there. Trying to figure out how she could take her cup up with her, Santana finally realized she couldn't, and drained it in two gulps, tossing the empty cup behind her. When she put her foot onto the first ladder rung, she cursed, for the first time, her idea of wearing such a short dress. At least no one was going to be _under _her as she climbed up.

"Santana?" Rachel asked again, and suddenly something heavy dropped directly onto the top of her head.

"Jesus _Christ_!" Santana growled, bracing herself against the tree so she could put a hand up to feel where she'd been hit. "What are you doing? Trying to _kill _me?" Then, as she heard the shattering of glass, she snapped her head up to glare at the opening into the tree house. "There better not have been booze in that bottle, Berry!" she threatened.

"Oh, oh my. No… I don't think so…? Are you okay?"

Trying to ignore the pulsing in her skull and finishing up the last couple of steps, Santana crawled inside. Forcing Rachel back, who had been crouched near the entrance, she shuffled forward on her hands and knees (oh, how thankful she was there was carpet!) until she was a ways enough away from the giant hole in the floor. Then, sitting back against the wall, she tugged her dress back down to a more 'decent' placement on her thighs. "What do you think?" she snapped, rubbing her head again.

Rachel, now sitting across from her, the tree house small enough that their knees would have touched if they'd both been sitting with their knees bent, wrung her hands. "I'm sorry," she whispered. After a second, she pushed herself back up to her own hands and knees and crawled over to Santana's side. Reaching out a hand, the girl, if it had not been obvious that she was drunk before, illustrated just how much she was because instead of gently feeling for a bump as she probably meant to, she managed to whack Santana's cheek. Having seen it coming but too slow to react in time, the alcohol having suddenly hit her hard, Santana could only growl out another "Jesus Christ!" and jerk away. "You have _issues_, Rachel!"

Rachel slumped back. "Sorry," she muttered, pulling her knees to her chin.

Santana stared suspiciously at her. "There better not have been booze in there," she repeated, "Because that would be a _damn _shame to waste it on the grass."

In the light of the moon, Santana could still make out a small smile on Rachel's face. "Uhm, I have more…" the smaller girl pointed at one of the corners.

"Ooh!" Perking up and dropping her hand, Santana tried to squint through the darkness. "What is it?" _Please _don't be pussy-ass wine coolers. Please! She hadn't had _nearly_ enough to stop drinking anytime soon.

Rachel scooted forward and clumsily herded the bottles across the floor, towards them. "I'm not sure," she admitted, "Puck and Sam were the ones who brought them up, uhm… Maybe an hour ago? I don't know… Time goes by so s_trangely_…"

Snapping her fingers to get Rachel's attention back on task, Santana still had to quirk an eyebrow. "Sam and Puck, hmm? Gettin' some man pie?"

"What…?" Rachel looked up from where she was trying to make out what, exactly, they were she had retrieved. "Oh, no! We were all up here until Artie complained that he couldn't… You know… Climb the ladder." Rachel stifled a giggle.

They _all _were up here? "_All _of you?"

"I guess not all. Finn and Quinn were… Doesn't matter what they were doing, nope, nope." Hurrying on, Rachel finally gave up and thrust one of the bottles at Santana, who only _just _managed to catch it before it crashed into her chin; _crazy devil woman_! "And, Lauren refused outright, while… Mmm… Mike n' Tina were already having s-sexual relation – sex."

_Sexual relations_. Santana snorted, moving the clear bottle over towards a shaft of moonlight. Making out that it was vodka, she grinned widely and grabbed another bottle from Rachel to look at that one as well. Ohh, rum _too_? Accepting one more bottle, Santana didn't even have to look to see what it was. Whiskey. _Damn_. What had Puck and Sam been _plottin'_? And how could she get it back on track?

Deciding, after a couple seconds of contemplation, on starting with the vodka, Santana placed the others safely far, _far _away from the hole in the floor and unscrewed the cap. Taking a shot, she coughed a little before pushing it into Rachel's hand. "And you're still up here – oh come _on_, drink! – you're still up here because…?"

"I… I couldn't feel my legs." Having to grip the bottle with both hands, Rachel eyed it with distrust, but when Santana shoved it up, she took a sudden, defensive gulp. Shuddering and about to spit it out, Santana jumped forward to slap her hand over her mouth. "Swallow!" she firmly stated, and, eyes wide as she stared at her, Rachel did so. Immediately, the small girl spluttered and shook her head, tongue sticking out of her mouth. "That is _vile_," she choked, but then surprised Santana by snatching the bottle back from her and taking another shot.

Wow. Maybe Santana could have some grudging respect for the sheltered Jewish American Princess after all. However, _her _turn. Taking the vodka back, she took her own second shot and placed it down on the other side of her so Rachel couldn't steal it. Straightening, she leaned back against the wall, feeling Rachel settle down right next to her. Santana looked over at her.

Rachel's face was flushed even in the dim light, and it looked like her eyes were sparkling. Maybe Santana could have some more fun with her before starting her plan…? With Santana's constitution, she knew it would still take a while to get to the point where she wouldn't be able to handle herself anymore. Because, after all, how often was it she got a drunk Rachel Berry to play with?


	3. Chapter 3

"No _shit_," Santana gaped at Rachel, "That was you?"

Rachel's head seemed like it would break off at the rate of fast nodding she was doing. "Yes. Finn and I needed to use the copier to make, uhm… Some fliers, and she caught us."

"That explains her rampage that day!" Santana laughed, giving Rachel an appraising look, "Aren't you the one who doesn't break the rules?"

"Mmm, vodka." Flailing her fingers out in a 'gimme' motion, Rachel eagerly took a swig when Santana handed her the bottle. Still unable to stop from grimacing at the taste, she held it up, then pouted. "Empty? But I didn't drink that much… Did I?"

Santana, happy that her skull wasn't hurting anymore, shook her head, leaning forward to pull the bottle away. Ending up with her fingers skimming across the back of Rachel's hand, she frowned and tried again. Succeeding that time, she tossed it into the farthest away corner. "Let Puck deal with it," she explained to Rachel, who nodded, then flopped back.

The small girl giggled. "We're in a _tree _house. That's like a _house_… In a _tree_."

Santana snorted. "Berry, you are _drunk_."

"Well it's better than being _not _drunk!" Rachel announced theatrically, grinning at her. She wagged her finger in Santana's face, almost hitting her nose, "And you're drunk, too. Don't deny it!" She paused, searching Santana's face, "Are you going to cry soon?"

"Shut _up_!" Santana glared at her; she didn't cry every time she drank! "I don't cry _every _time I drink! …You racist."

Rachel frowned widely, dropping her hand to poke Santana's knee. "I am _not _racist! I'm half black!"

"Oh _please_. You're as white as white bread. Now me? I'm a quarter black, but you don't see _me _making a big deal out of it."

Rachel's mouth dropped open. "We… We could be _related_!" Surging forward onto her knees, she grabbed up Santana's hands, crushing them in a surprisingly strong grip. "Then I could be not an only child anymore!"

Stunned at the explosive enthusiasm (even _more_ than normal, if that was possible), Santana forgot all about yanking her hands back. "I'm not your sister, idiot! And again, that's _incredibly _racist. We're not all _related_, _Yentl_. And don't you dare start singing your _Only Child _song!"

Rachel, who Santana was gratified to see actually _had _been opening her mouth to start singing, clicked her mouth shut and pouted, sitting back on her ankles. Her fingers tightened around Santana's. "I'm not racist," she repeated.

"Sure, sure, now gimme me my hands back."

"But you're _warm_."

Rachel's hands were warm, too. "And _you're _drunk. Gets _off_ my hands afores I gets _angry_."

Dropping her head down, bangs falling heavily over her eyes, Rachel seemed to be studying Santana's hands. Finally, she let go, the feeling of her fingers sliding away making an involuntary shiver run down Santana's back. "About damn time," she covered her surprise, using one of her newly freed hands to pull her dress down again; it _was_ kinda getting cold. But not enough to think about going in yet. She still had more she wanted to pick from Rachel's brain, after all.

Having settled back into the wall, Rachel pulled her own dress down. Noticing the action, Santana blinked and really _looked _at the other girl for the first time that night. Even though she had to squint through the darkness and the fuzzy edges of buzz-sight, Santana raised her eyebrows. She approved. "Hey…" she trailed off, shifting to face the girl more and reaching out to run her hand along the top of Rachel's neckline that stopped a good ways into her cleavage before she thought about it, "This isn't a crime against nature."

Rachel's gaze followed Santana's hand. "Yeah…?" she smiled, flicking her eyes up to meet Santana's, then fall back down, "Kurt had to, mmm… Convince me to get it. I like the straps. They're pretty."

Moving her hand up, fingers sliding off to stroke along Rachel's skin, Santana followed the neckline up to where it melted into a medium, braided strap, then disappeared under a short layering sweater. "What color is it?" she asked, backtracking to trace the other side, too.

Rachel shivered, and when Santana got back to where she had started, it seemed like she breathed in deeply, then started taking short, shallow breaths. "Uhm… Bl-blue? Santana… What are you doing?"

What did it look like she was doing? Frowning, Santana looked up from Rachel's chest, meeting wide, dark eyes. "What do you think I'm doing?"

Studying Santana's face, Rachel blinked, then looked away and licked her lips. "Your hand is cold," she whispered, reaching up to press against Santana's arm, halting her with her fingers just at the swell of her breast.

Whoah. Uhm… What was happening? Determined not to show that the situation _may _have gone in a direction she hadn't expected (or thought of in the first place!), Santana waited until Rachel looked back at her to say pointedly, "You said it was warm a minute ago."

Continuing to stare at her, Rachel finally spoke, "…Drink?"

Oh thank god. Taking the out Rachel gave her, Santana pulled back, swiveling around to grab the rum by touch. Unscrewing it, she took a quick, deep gulp. Ohh, instant heat in her stomach, _nice_.

As she was concentrating on the feeling, small hands pulled the bottle out of her grasp. "What does this taste like?" Rachel asked, eyes completely focused on the bottle.

Santana shrugged. "Can't really describe it. So drink already, and then you'll know."

"It's dark liquor, right?"

…Duh. "_Yes_…"

"Rum, rum, heh," Rachel giggled a little, humming, "Beat my drum."

"Oh my god." Snatching the bottle back, Santana took another shot. Thank god for a lot of practice drinking. "You know, hobbit," she held up the bottle tauntingly, "If you're not gonna drink and make up _stupid _rhymes instead, then I'm just going to hang onto this."

"I'm not _not _going to drink!" Rachel objected, voice rising, "I just wanted to know what it tastes like!"

"Then _drink_; not just _talk _about it. Money where your mouth is, yada yada." Santana waved her hand in the air. "_Dark liquor_," she parroted, starting to laugh at the annoyed expression on Rachel's face.

Rachel glared at her. "Stop laughing!"

"Uhm, _hello_? You're not the boss of me – _whoah_!" Barely managing to keep herself upright without toppling sideways, Santana slowly realized that for the second time that night, someone's breasts were pushed into her face as Rachel struggled to stretch for the rum Santana _barely _managed to keep a hold of and out of reach.

Rachel's chest smelled like perfume and alcohol and laundry soap, and, hey, Santana was a lesbian. If bushes in the shape of people turned her on, a girl's breasts shoved into her face _definitely_ turned her on. Even if they belonged to Rachel Berry. This ain't so bad, she thought, gamely playing keep away as she shifted and sank back on her lower back and one elbow.

"Gimme!" Rachel demanded, one hand pressed down on Santana's upper stomach for balance. "Santana, you're not being _fair_!"

"Jesus Christ, you're wiggly," Santana laughed, feeling silly and warm from the alcohol. Honestly, Rachel was reminding her of Brittany – even if Brittany had longer arms and won very quickly. It was kinda nice having the upper hand for once. But seriously, Rachel must have either been much drunker than it seemed, or she wasn't trying that hard, because, technically, she probably shouldn't be having as much trouble as she was getting the bottle away from Santana.

But, you know, Santana wasn't complaining. She was drunk enough to enjoy the feeling of Rachel on top of her. Even if it _was_ Rachel-Rachel.

However… Moving her free hand, curious to see what would happen if she played with Rachel's balance, Santana slid it between their bodies, planting her palm on a surprisingly tight stomach.

"Santan-_ah_?" Flailing as Santana pushed her up and back enough to _just _lift her off balance, Rachel squeaked, returning her arms back to her body in instinct. Knee falling between Santana's thighs and hands on either side of her chest, Rachel glared down at her, her dark hair falling to tickle Santana's cheek.

"So, Berry," Santana smirked, still incredibly amused, "How does it feel, horribly failing at _this_, too?"

Rachel huffed. "You're mean."

"I'm a bitch." Santana shrugged lightly, as best as she could. It wasn't like the other girl didn't _know _that.

Closing her eyes, Rachel shook her head and pushed herself back, off of her. "_Rummmm_," she looked at Santana again, pouting, "I don't want to get sober yet! If I get sober, I'll remember that I shouldn't be drinking, and then nothing will be _fun _anymore. _I _won't be fun anymore."

_That_, Santana could agree with."Oh, all right," she sighed, sitting up and tossing Rachel the bottle, "But you _owe _me." She pointed at her.

Rachel beamed. Then, unscrewing the cap and almost hitting herself in the face because of the haste she was using to get the bottle to her mouth before, presumably, Santana stole it back, she took a brave shot. "Oh god," she moaned after making a face and gagging again, "That's even _worse_!"

Laughing, Santana pulled it out of her hand. "I never said it was _good_. I said I couldn't _describe_ it."

"Mean, mean, mean," Rachel muttered, then perked up. "_Hey_," she leaned forward excitedly, "Are you hungry?"

Food _did _sound good. _And_… There just so happened to be a 7-Eleven not too far away. If handled correctly, and she could convince Rachel to go, that would be _epic_. And since she knew she would be able to convince Rachel to go, Santana. Couldn't. Wait.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Let's continue the randomness, shall we? *wide grin* Really, this fic is too much fun to write. I get to be legitimately silly!

Oh! And I now have a tumblr account! It's under purrpickle, and if you want to follow me to get musings about Pezberry and my writings, please do. Hope to see you there~

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><p>Trying to get out of the tree house was turning out to be more of a predicament than previously expected. Though Rachel swore she had feeling back in her legs, she was pretty intoxicated. Santana, feeling no pain herself, had barely caught the small girl's arm before she tried to just <em>drop<em> through the hole, "_Damn_, Berry, you're _crazy_."

"What? It's not like I'm going to _die_," Rachel huffed, tugging her arm back. "The bottle only broke because… 'Cuz it's glass." She pressed her hand into the carpet, leaning towards Santana. "Are you _worried _about me?"

Rachel's eyes were slightly crossed, and Santana could feel her own crossing as she tried to meet her gaze. "Don't be silly," she shook her head, pulling Rachel's arm closer to her, "I just can't be bothered to carry you if you break your fucking spine or something."

Rachel blinked at her, and a slow, wide beatific smile bloomed on her face. "That's so _sweet_," she giggled, and she shuffled forward to throw her free arm around Santana's neck. "Mmm… Your hair smells nice…" she mumbled.

Shivering from the feel of Rachel's breath on her bare skin, Santana stared down at the girl draped over her front. "…You're a clingy drunk, aren't you." She didn't even bother to phrase it as a question.

Rachel nodded. "You're warm and you smell good."

And _that _was a reason to hug Santana. Though, you know… It wasn't _unpleasant_… Dropping Rachel's arm, Santana's prediction came true when the girl instantly slung it around her waist. Had Rachel always been so… _Adorable_? The alcohol had certainly relaxed the normally tight-laced girl, and this silly, loose version of her was somehow _not _annoying.

After a couple of seconds, Santana delicately draped her arms over Rachel's back. "You're expecting me to carry you, aren't you?"

Rachel's arms tightened, and she nodded again, hair tickling Santana's neck, "Please."

"_How_?" Seriously. How?

Rachel grumbled. "_Santana_… Piggyback!"

Sweet Jesus. Santana shook her head. "You're insane. I think I's gonna let you drop after all." Taking Rachel's shoulders into her hands, Santana started pushing her away from her. No matter how appealing her hormones were finding Rachel at the moment, Santana was _not _going to kill them both to keep her sex drive happy.

Especially when they hadn't even done anything sexual. Well, except for Rachel wiggling on top of her, breasts in Santana's face… Yeah, wrong thing to think. Heat still simmering in her body from numerous shots of rum, it was like Santana was _just _realizing that she, a fricken' lesbian, had a girl in her arms that, not even two hours ago, had been undoubtedly coming onto her via text.

Hey, she had a girl in her arms that not even two hours ago had been coming onto her over text.

Santana stopped pushing Rachel away. "Hobbit…" she murmured throatily.

Rachel, who had been trying to hold onto Santana, looked up. Her dark eyes took a while to focus on her, the wide smile Santana was beginning to associate with the small girl being drunk squarely on her face. "Yeah?"

The last person Santana had kissed while drunk had been Sam, and though his lips were big enough to make it easier to pretend she was kissing a girl, something told her that Rachel's lips wouldn't make her have to use her imagination. Hell, if she was honest, Santana had been imagining kissing those plump lips for years now, if not to just shut her up.

And her drunken mind caught up with her. "You answered to hobbit!" Santana laughed, dropping her hands to rest on either side of Rachel's waist. She spread her legs, shifting around so it wasn't as awkward sitting up while still holding onto the other girl. Too fucking bad her dress rode up her thighs – it wasn't like Rachel would mind.

A pouting frown took over Rachel's lips, and Santana's gaze fell back to them. "I am not a member of a fictional try… speesh… _people_, Santana. I'm a _human_. Like you." Rachel blinked, brow furrowing. "…You _are_ human, right? 'Cuz that would be… You know… Kinda scary if you weren't."

A line worthy of Puck came to Santana. What the hell. Sliding her hands back, encouraging Rachel to get as close as she had been before, Santana's opinion of the hotness of Rachel's body rose. When Rachel acquiesced, wrapping her arms around Santana's neck again, whispering a happy, "Piggyback?", Santana leaned forward, purring out in her _best _come-hither voice, "I could be a _suck_-_you_-bus."

Rachel stared up at her. "That…" she swallowed, licking her lips, "Would be… Very hot."

Santana smirked. She dropped her nose, brushing it against Rachel's. "And _I'm_ hot, right?"

"You are…" Rachel nodded, her breath catching. She tilted her chin closer, whispering a little clumsily, "Very hot."

_Like_ _salsa_. "Mmhm. _Damn_ right."

"Are you going to kiss me?"

When Rachel licked her lips again, she almost licked Santana's. Her breath smelled like rum, and Santana locked her hands behind her lower back, making their chests press together; for a girl who apparently wore practice bras, they felt damn nice. Would Rachel's mouth taste like alcohol? Fuck it, it was time to find out. Why was she even waiting any longer, anyway?

But Rachel surprised her. Gripping the back of Santana's neck and shoulders, the smaller girl's lips slammed into hers, moving and hot and wet, her tongue automatically trying to seek entrance into Santana's mouth. Caught off guard, Santana sucked in a deep breath through her nose, then crushed Rachel to her. Oh god. That kiss with Blaine hadn't been a lie – Rachel had some fuckin' _amazing _drunk kisses.

Once the girl realized Santana wasn't fighting her, she calmed down enough to put more direction in the swipes of her tongue. Feeling the heat growing between her legs, Santana groaned, groaning again when Rachel trapped her tongue in her mouth.

Okay, no. Pulling back just enough to husk, "Dammit, Berry, who the hell _are _you?" Santana pushed the both of them forward and sideways, managing to somehow get Rachel on her back. Crawling forward into the same position Rachel had had on her earlier and pausing a second to take in the image of a tussled Rachel panting up at her, hair in disarray and dress high up on her thighs as Santana slipped one knee in between them, Santana's sex drive went haywire. "Oh god – _kiss me_!"

Rachel's mouth opened immediately under hers, her hands wrapping around Santana's arms, like even while she was drunk, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to be doing with them. For her part, Santana just let the swirling vertigo of arousal and alcohol guide her actions.

Rachel's mouth, tongue, lips… Her teeth every so often scraping against Santana's tongue or nipping at her bottom lip. Her nose, surprisingly _not _an impediment to kissing, brushed against Santana's every so often, and it was… Cute? Yeah… Moving on. As Santana sunk lower and lower, the draw of feeling Rachel's body under hers almost too much _not _to give in to, the difference of the heat under her and the cold on her back was almost as exciting as the act of kissing: something that wasn't natural but felt oh so intoxicating. And the _noises _Rachel was making…!

Suddenly, just as Santana had nudged Rachel's legs farther apart by pushing her other knee between them, Rachel slipped one hand up Santana's shoulder, splayed her fingers out against her neck, and _pushed_.

Yeah, that wasn't comfortable at _all_.

"Ow, ow, _ow_," Santana choked, rearing up and away, almost scraping her bare knees against the carpet in her haste to push back.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Rachel gasped, breathing deeply, reaching out with her hand to wave her fingers at Santana as she sat up, "I didn't want to do that, but – "

"Then why the hell _did_ you?" Santana snapped, rubbing her neck. "If I _ever _gave you the impression I was into strangulation, that was only _once_ and I kicked Puck's ass afterwards."

Rachel shook her head. "No, no, I - - what? No, never mind, I don't want to know. I just want to go. I…" she paused, then mumbled, "Know… Go… So. _Sew_."

Rhyming, _again_? Reaching for the abandoned rum, Santana unscrewed the cap and knocked back a rather large shot. Rachel Berry had just given up gettin' her mack on with Santana for _rhyming_. As the fire reached her stomach, goddamn tears pricked at her eyes. _Fuck_.

Rachel seemed inordinately busy with herself as she continued mumbling, "…Pill_ow_. _Swill_... oh? Oh! _Swall_ow!"

Santana's nose burned, and she dropped the rum bottle, putting the back of her hand up to her face as she turned away. She was _not_ going to cry. She was _not_!

…Fuck, she was.

"…Sparrow. Dodo... …Santana?"

"I am not a _bird_!" Santana snapped, then burst into tears. Even through her sobs, she could hear the sound of Rachel slowly approaching her. A warm hand pressed lightly against her shoulder, and then Rachel had cuddled up to her side.

"Santana?" Rachel whispered, "You're… Crying?"

"What does it _look _like I'm doing?" Santana sniffled, "God, if you're this stupid when you drink, you shouldn't _drink_!"

Rachel recoiled, and then she settled on her ass, using her hands to scoot herself backwards to end up in front of Santana, her side rubbing against Santana's bent knees as she slid along the carpet. "I may still be drunk…" she started thickly, pulling Santana's hands away from her face, "But I can concentrate enough on you to care."

_Care_? Rachel didn't _care_. …Still, the other girl's arms were warm and nice when she pulled her into a hug. Annoyingly, the tears only increased at the affectionate motion. Brittany always hugged her when she was crying. …Almost always. Brittany _almost _always hugged her when she was crying. But Brittany wasn't there. No, Rachel was, and though Santana was again pressed up close to her, it wasn't very fun.

"Why are you crying? Did I make you cry?"

Santana nodded.

"_I _did?" Rachel's slow words still managed to sound scandalized.

Of _course _Rachel did! Santana frowned. "You… You stopped kissing me to _rhyme_!" She pushed herself up to glare wateringly at Rachel's still slightly crossed eyes, "Rhyme! When I'm hot and _so _fuckin' good at gettin's my mack on, and, and you were _responding_ and it was hot and getting even _hotter_, but you stop me to _rhyme_. **_Rhyme_**! What the hell does _rhyming _have over _me_?"

Rachel's eyebrows drew together, and she stared at Santana blankly. Suddenly, an 'oh!' light went on in her expression, and she blushed. "I… I didn't mean to rhyme. And, and, I _was _enjoying it. A lot." Rachel shrugged jerkily, and then she tightened her hold around Santana, "Probably too much… _Ohh_, too much."

Well, that was nice to hear, but not very _helpful_. "Do you have a point?" Santana growled, _thankfully_ not crying as much. Rachel's hug wasn't going to distract her! Even if it felt very nice…

Oh crap. Maybe that last shot was _just _a little too much. But, determined not to give away her mounting drunkenness, Santana bit the inside of her cheek and, ironically, crossed her _own _eyes at Rachel.

Rachel looked everywhere but directly at her. Finally, she sucked her lower lip into her mouth. "I… Have to go to the bathroom," she whispered.

…

Santana pushed herself away. She almost dove towards the hole in the floor.

"I'm not going to _pee _on you!" Rachel wailed.

"_Thank _you but not my problem," Santana grunted back. Feet first would be best, right? Squinting down at the ladder and slowly reaching her hand forward to judge just how clear her eyesight really was, a sudden weight latched onto her back, two very strong, very determined legs wrapping around her waist as equally strong and determined arms wrapped around her shoulders.

"The hole's big enough," Rachel insisted as Santana yelped and scrabbled at the ladder to keep herself upright.

"What the hell's _wrong _with you?" Santana gasped, legs trembling with how close she had come to toppling forward and down the hole. "First the glass bottle and now _you_?"

Almost strangling Santana with her arms, Rachel only squeezed her waist harder. "Santana," she whined, her breath washing over Santana's ear, making her shiver from _that_, too, as the feeling of her body started to filter through the rum-fog in her head, "Carry me down so I _don't _pee on you, and I'll grab my purse and we'll _go to 7-Eleven_." She paused, and when Santana didn't do anything except huff, Rachel continued to wheedle, "I'll buy you anything you _want_. I'm hungry!"

…No, no no. _No_.

Fuck, Santana was drunk, hungry, and needed to go to the bathroom enough to attempt this. "It's not my fault if you fall or scrape against something," she grumbled.

"_Yay!_" Crowing, Rachel impulsively dropped a fierce, sloppy kiss to the back of Santana's neck.

Having to catch herself _again_, Santana shook her head, muttered crossly, "You're lucky you're so tiny, fricken' joy rider," and slowly, incredibly slowly, shuffled around to where she could ease the tip of her shoe onto the first rung. Then, hanging on as tightly as she could, almost shutting her eyes as she waited for her feet and hands to slip, dropped her other foot onto the same rung.

Fortunately, the only thing that happened was a small yelp from Rachel as she molded herself even tighter to her back to avoid the rim of the hole and an involuntary grunt from herself when gravity dropped the full weight and drag of Rachel onto her. Pausing a second to see if her arms and thighs could take it, yelling for Rachel to shift her legs up _just that little bit _and _don't strangle me, Jesus!_, she felt for the next lower rung, then the next, stopping at each level to rest both her feet on it before heading for the next one.

By the time they reached the bottom of the tree, Santana's muscles were protesting (the alcohol not helping at _all _in that regard), she was sweating disgustingly, and the feeling of Rachel against her had turned her on again, no matter how much she had to go to the bathroom.

As soon as Santana's feet touched the ground, Rachel let go. Stumbling into Santana's back to keep herself from falling, Santana's protest was interrupted when Rachel tugged her around, grabbed both sides of her head, and pulled her down into a rough, passionate kiss. "Thank you," Rachel breathed against her lips, "That turned me on _so _much. Come find me after the bathroom, okay? And I'll reward you." Then, letting go and patting Santana's chest, giving her that wide, happy smile, Rachel turned and started toddling off towards the house in a halfway-staggering drunken gate.

Swallowing, Santana stared at Rachel. Oh yeah. Okay. Gettin' a reward from Rachel fucking Berry. Santana could get behind that.

Taking a step to follow the other girl, Santana stopped, stared at the ground, then looked back up at the tree house. "_Fuuuuuuuck_," she hissed angrily, and climbed back up as fast as she could. Grabbing the leftover rum and still full whiskey, she only took a second before sighing and stuffing them, quite uncomfortably, into her bra. Yelping at the cold, she shimmied back down to the ground with them, somehow, miraculously not falling out. And, after she removed them again, she made her way back to Puck's house. First: bathroom. Second: find Rachel for some sexy lady lovin'. Third: round up whoever wanted eats. And fourth: begin operation Introduce Rachel Berry to Drunken 7-Eleven Midnight Runs.

Because, dammit, Santana was hungry, and she just _knew _that shit would be epic.


	5. Chapter 5

As Santana walked past the kitchen on her way of hunting down a small little package of pretty hot-ass _crazy_, a small hand clamped onto her upper arm and pulled her in. Proud of herself for figuring out that it was Rachel almost right away, Santana immediately shoved her tongue into her mouth when hot lips pushed up sloppily against hers. Rachel's arms wrapped around her neck, and the girl fuckin' _mewed _in the back of her throat when Santana's hands came swooping down to cup her ass. "Jump on me," she hissed between some pretty lady loin exciting kisses. Hey, when it was _her_ choice, she'd _gladly _have Rachel's pelvis notched against her. And even better when it was against her abs. Thank god for years of practice with her heels.

"You're so _strong_," Rachel moaned, doing as Santana asked and quickly wrapping her legs around Santana's waist; the hem of her dress, Santana quickly realized, as she now had her hands under Rachel's thighs, was pushed up obscenely high, "It's turning me o-on. So. _Much_."

"That's the plan, sweetie," Santana answered, her palms thrilling at just how much skin she could feel. The heat of it rivaled the heat of the small girl's mouth, and using her blurry memory of the layout of Puck's kitchen, Santana lurched forward. When her hands brushed against the top of the kitchen table, she bit down on Rachel's lip and dropped her.

Squeaking as her ass impacted the wood, Rachel groaned as Santana took the chance to start kissing down her chin and jaw. Her skin tasted like a mixture of rum and something berry-like, and it was so soft Santana wanted to _ruin_ it.

Insistent hands buried themselves into her hair, and Rachel scooted forward, pressing her knees into the sides of Santana's legs. Essentially between her legs, now hip to hip, Santana could _not _fucking _believe _how _fucking turned on she was_. The gasps and moans and little breathy intakes Rachel was making headed straight for her core. Wanting to be even _closer_, Santana wrapped one arm around Rachel's back, leaned herself forward so she could prop herself on it while also covering Rachel's upper body with her own, the side of the table digging into her thighs and the one place that _needed _pressure, and used her unoccupied hand to curl around Rachel's hipbone, sliding up and down a bit before taking a firm grip around the swell of her hip proper. Sucking on Rachel's tongue, she pulled the girl towards herself so she could nestle her stomach _directly_ into the space between her legs.

Fucking god, this was hot. Score one for having a long torso, because _Jesus_. If she didn't, this wouldn't have worked. But it did. Ohh god, it did.

Sharp nails trailed down her neck, pulling her hair with sweet pain, Rachel's other hand kneading open and closed along Santana's side. Rachel's thighs were trembling, and her abs were bunching and relaxing in jagged pulses that Santana could feel under her breasts as she obviously fought against herself not to start humping Santana. _Fuck_, Santana wanted to feel that.

Rachel's chest was heaving, and she was panting, her lips giving as much as they were getting, sharp teeth landing stinging nips here and there. The taste of intense mackage was building, and the slide of their mouths was getting sloppy and rough. Rachel was now crushing Santana to her, the solid barrier of the table serving as a handy, easy way for Santana to get her jollies, and as she ground herself against it, she flexed and ground herself against Rachel's center. The girl was almost burning against her, damp heat Santana was intimately acquainted with starting to become obvious through the thin fabric of her dress.

Ripping her mouth away, Santana stared down into Rachel's flushed, aroused face, taking in the shine of their combined saliva and smeared lip gloss around kiss-swollen lips and the dark, blown pupils of her eyes. When Santana made a quick, vibrating undulation into Rachel, the girl sucked in a deep, needy breath, arching her body up and tightening her grip, her eyes rolling up.

…Yeah, Rachel Berry was one fucking hot hobbit. And her mouth was too unoccupied. Crashing their lips together again, Santana took her hand off Rachel's hip to prop her palm against the tabletop. Starting to push herself up, she paused, then mentally yelled _the hell with it! i don't fucking care if anyone comes in behind me_, and hiked her dress up to her hips. Shivering a bit at the resulting chill, she planted her hand back onto the table and, pushing Rachel up with her arm around her back, she very not-so-gracefully clambered up onto the table.

A loud crashing noise came from above Rachel's head, but barely giving it any thought, Santana very quickly pulled her arm up, crunched her knees up, and, missing the heat of Rachel's pelvis against her, quickly fixed that by settling herself directly onto her. The wood was cold, Rachel's body was burning up, Santana was overheated, and the kissing they had barely paused doing was molten lava.

Hunching her hips up, Rachel scrabbled at Santana's back, her hands unable to stay in one place. "_Santana_," she moaned, "You – I – we – oh god, _thiiiiiiis_."

"What?" Santana again moved to drag her tongue down Rachel's jaw towards her ear, the girl eagerly turning her head to give her access, "_Tell me_." She nipped at her earlobe, nuzzling her ear with her nose.

Wrapping her arms around the backs of Santana's shoulders, Rachel's teeth suddenly bit into the tendon of Santana's neck, the sudden burst of fire and pain drawing a loud, guttural groan from Santana's throat. And, Rachel taking advantage of her distraction, with some knocking limbs and a sharp yank of her hair that really did _not _feel okay, as well as the heady sensation of Rachel's body sliding along hers and another loud, crashing noise, Santana found herself on her back, Rachel parked on her hips, her hair tumbling down to tickle the sides of Santana's face as she stared down at her with a fucking _predatory _look on her face.

Well then. Little girl wanted to play with being the aggressor, huh? Thrusting one hand into the mass of curls at the back of Rachel's head and pushing down on the girl's lower back to force her full weight on top of her, Santana set out to show Rachel that even if she was on the bottom, _she _was still in control.

Drunk or not.

Rachel dropped her head, brushing the tip of her nose along Santana's. A million jokes about Rachel's nose rose in Santana's mind, but she managed to hold them back, lifting her chin to capture her lips instead. Rachel's tongue dipped out to push into her mouth, but, smirking, Santana firmed her lips so she couldn't get past them.

Letting out a frustrated noise, Rachel tried again, but nah, not gonna get through, babe. "_Santana_…" she whined, "I _want_ your _mouth_."

Well, duh, Santana widened her smirk, giving Rachel a challenging look, of _course_ she did. What an incredibly lame ass thing to say. _Everyone _wanted her mouth.

Frowning, Rachel narrowed her eyes at her, then shifted down without warning, easily pushing herself in between Santana's legs. Gasping at the friction against her, her arousal flaring quickly back into a hard, torrid pulsing, Santana's eyes slammed shut, her body arching up as a loud moan escaped without her planning it when Rachel's hand was suddenly cupped around the bottom of her chin and jaw, pushing her head back so she could continue her vampiric bites down her neck and along her collar bone. Clumsy, wet, and definitely a little awkward, the girl still managed to hit almost _all _of the erogenous zones Santana had along that section of her body.

"_Fuuuuuck_. Be-berry, yeah, _harder_." Squirming and humping up into Rachel's body, Santana could barely concentrate on anything but the scrape of teeth and suction, her hand mapping out Rachel's back while her other kept a tight hold on Rachel's hair, using it as a means to help direct Rachel where she – oh, _god_, _stop_ fucking _nuzzling _the valley between her breasts if she wasn't going to _use _her big mouth _on _her breasts! Trying to push Rachel's head down farther, Rachel stopped herself _just _when the edges of her hot breath snaked under her bra. "_What_…?"

"I don't know what I'm doing…" Rachel whispered, the hand on Santana's neck sliding down to help balance herself.

Santana gaped at her. "_Well_…" she drew out the word, trying to make her voice suitably annoyed even through her pants, "I wasn't _complaining_."

Shy but still excited eyes looked at her through thick mussed bangs, and Rachel bit down on her lower lip. Eyes falling to watch the motion, Santana licked her lips, and she removed her hand from the nape of Rachel's neck to push herself up on her elbow. Pressing a firm kiss to Rachel's mouth, she quickly had the girl melting back on top of her. If there was one thing Santana knew how to do, it was kissing a girl. Hell, she'd even calculated the best way to get a girl to drop her panties, and… Well, maybe it wasn't surprising, but Santana realized she'd gladly use that on the girl on top of her.

And of course, as soon as Santana had slid her hand down to see where, exactly, the hem of Rachel's dress was and how far she could get under it, a loud, screeched, "My _eyes_! Oh my god, _my eyes_. This can _never _be _unseen_," made Rachel slowly pull her tongue out of Santana's mouth and raise her head. Twisting around, a motion that very nicely pushed her pelvis _directly _on Santana's, the girl having to pause a second to catch her breath as her eyes flew back to meet Santana's, Rachel sloooooowly rolled off of Santana. "Hi Kurt," she greeted huskily, sounding halfway happy and halfway annoyed.

The girl needed more alcohol. Staring up at the ugly pale ceiling of Puck's kitchen, chest still heaving as she tried to calm her _fucking raging libido_, Santana had never wanted to slap the gay off of Kurt's face more than that second.

"Satan…" Kurt's voice sounded strained, "I know you're not _human_ like the rest of us, so you don't have our same social mores, but I think even _you _would have an issue with your… _Lady bits _on full display."

"Oh sweet, sweet Kurtsy-Wurtsy…" Santana started in a sickeningly sweet voice, sitting up and pointing her finger at him, "You have thirty seconds to _gets your ass _out of this kitchen afores I go all _kinds _of Lima Heights and _kick_ you out in several ridiculously fashionable _pieces_."

Getting some enjoyment out of the fact he almost left smoke behind in his haste to leave, Santana propped her elbows onto her knees, her chin onto her palms, and looked at Rachel, who was standing near the refrigerator, tugging on the bottom of her dress and sleeves of her sweater.

Damn but did the girl look incredibly macked up.

That… And kinda lost.

Santana raised an eyebrow and crooked her finger. Waiting until Rachel got within reach, she slid herself forward so her legs hung off the edge of the table and curled her hands around Rachel's small shoulders. She pulled the girl in as she leant out, expertly giving her a deep, effective kiss. Rachel's arms slid around her waist, and her mouth dropped open, still able to taste so _sweet _even after Santana had already conceivably kissed all the taste out of her. Pulling back, Santana murmured, "I's betting you wants to gets more alcohol on."

Rachel's lips curved up, and she met Santana's gaze with barely fuzzy eyes. "That sounds good," she whispered back, nodding so her forehead rubbed against Santana's.

Santana smirked. "Hell yeah." Then, taking her hands away, she made a small shooing motion, "Now git so I don't crush you under my stylish yet affordable… Er, heels."

"_Buffy_!" Rachel burst out, grinning wildly and wagging one finger at Santana, "Why, Santana Lopez, you're a _geek_?"

Jumping down, Santana scowled and lightly shoved Rachel's shoulder as she walked past her, "Shut it. You don't know what you're talking about." Not nearly as unstable as she'd been before, Santana nodded decisively. Yeah. Definite alcohol time.

Reaching the bathroom, she didn't even bother to knock to see if anyone was inside before pushing the door, which, luckily, had been unlocked. Dropping to her knees, she opened the cupboard under the sink, leaned forward and fished around until her hand closed on the rum bottle, and pulled it out. Having to laugh at the excited look on Rachel's face, Santana smirked and unscrewed the cap. Knocking back a shot and quickly following it with another, she shivered and grimaced at the taste, then wiped her mouth with the back of her arm. "Have at it, Tiny," she husked, shoving the bottle into Rachel's waiting hands, "I's gonna go round up the losers. Don't drink all of that, but don't let anyone else have it, either, got it?"

Coughing and shaking her head with her tongue hanging out of her mouth again, Rachel blinked up at her. Pressing a hand to her chest, she nodded.

"Good." Climbing to her feet, Santana called it a win when she had to steady herself on the sink. Taking a second to watch Rachel take a deep breath in preparation of experiencing another shot, Santana shook her head. It was beyond her how _this _girl was the same one who normally annoyed the _crap _out of her.

But, her frown easing as the alcoholic heat in her stomach started spreading out through her body, she'd worry about that later. For now, she needed to gather up the troops. Because operation Introduce Rachel Berry to Drunken 7-Eleven Midnight Runs was most definitely still _on_.


	6. Chapter 6

Rachel kept on glancing at her, her body inevitably weaving closer and closer before someone else caught her attention. Taking pity a couple of times and reaching out to steady the girl before she lost balance or walked into a street sign, Santana found it uproariously funny and ridiculous at the same time. She might have become annoyed with the smaller girl's actions if it wasn't obvious part of her distraction was because of Santana herself. Rachel wanted to kiss her.

And fuck yeah. Santana wanted to kiss her back.

Santana paused, tilting her head. Looking up as Puck and Artie laughed about something she honestly didn't give a fuck about in front of her, as well as taking note that Mercedes, Sam, Brittany, and Lauren formed their own clump just behind the two boys, Mike and Tina barely bothering to bring up the rear as they stopped every so often to practically gnaw each other's face off, Santana realized that Rachel had split off again and was heading back towards her. Not even thinking about it, Santana sped up, grabbed Rachel's upper arm, and pulled her in.

Barely letting shock take any time out of actual macking time, Rachel surged herself more securely into Santana, locked her arms around her shoulders, and melted into her. This time around, her mouth tasted like the Sprite Puck had shoved at her before they left. Well, that and whatever the hell it was that was Rachel herself.

Kissing, wrapped up in each other for the first time, really, without something to lean on or crawl onto, was an interesting experience. Still feeling a high from that last shot she'd taken right before they'd left for good measure, Santana wasn't _really _surprised when her hand was full of fucking _amazing _Rachel Berry ass. And when Rachel's hand started tracing Santana's spine to do the same thing, she wasn't surprised, either.

Truth be told, it was about fucking time.

"Hell, you feel too fucking _good_," she moaned, sucking Rachel's lip into her mouth, "You're not allowed to have an ass this good."

Giggling, Rachel slowly explored the small of Santana's back. "Why not?" she whispered, her other hand sliding down along Santana's shoulder, stopping to zag down to wrap around her ribs, "It's not like you have a license for your ass. 'N… 'N _breasts_." The last word coming out a hot hiss, Rachel's eyes fell to stare at Santana's chest. When her tongue traced her upper teeth, nudging her lip, eyes focused below Santana's neck, Santana took the pause as invitation to slide her hands up Rachel's back, sliding under the sweater. "You want to touch them?" she husked knowingly, lips moving to explore Rachel's jaw.

Rachel's fingernails bit into her back. "I…" she sucked in a deep breath, letting it out in a rush when Santana's hands molded around her upper ribs, thumbs dangerously close to the line of her bra, "I believe I already started to…"

Heat pooled in Santana's stomach, and she moved back to kiss Rachel deeply. The girl felt so _small _under her hands, skin burning through the fabric of her dress. "_Fuck_," she pulled back roughly, slowly pushing her hands higher, "You're not manly at _all_." Spreading her fingers, she had to hood her eyes to be able to see the open mouthed look of surprise and lust on Rachel's face.

The girl's breasts were right there, just _waiting _for Santana to move up another inch and push against them. Or cup them. Find out once and for all if she _really _wore a trainer bra. She didn't _look _like she wore a trainer bra. At least not tonight. Some days Rachel's breasts really _did _look strapped down to nothing. That wasn't hot. Why would Rachel do that?

"Right now I'm really happy about that…" a smile curled Rachel's lips up, and she closed her eyes, looking expectant and breathless as Santana slowly followed the contours of the bra, "I… You're not making me feel manly at _all_, either."

Santana glanced up from the heaving of Rachel's chest. "Good," she smirked, and, _needing _to feel what the girl was just _taunting _her with, moved her hands up.

A loud whistle split the air, the harsh sound of a car streaking past combined with jeering male voices, the cloud parting just enough to hear an echoing, testosterone-fueled, "Get a room!"

Gritting her teeth, Santana dropped her hands. Yeah, _that _wasn't a turn off. "Fuck off!" she yelled back, "And become another teen statistic, fuck you!"

Rachel, eyes still dark with a high blush on her cheeks, met Santana's gaze, and she burst into laughter. Her arms came up, and she leaned forward, making Santana grab her by her waist.

"_Really_?" Rachel gasped, body shaking. Burying her head into Santana's neck, more laughter bubbled up.

Santana slowly found herself grinning. Wrapping her arms around Rachel's body, she pulled her close, laughter escaping from her lips as well. Sure, it had been a fucking _cockblock_, and teenage males _sucked_, but her body wasn't _minding _holding the smaller girl so close. You know. Because it meant everywhere from Rachel's breasts to her lower belly was plastered to Santana's front.

_Mmm_… Keep vibrating, yes.

Sucking in a deep breath, Rachel tried again, moving her head up and down as she giggled, "No, no, that _really _happened!" Her cheek and nose brushing along Santana's skin, she sighed, then practically _melted _in Santana's arms.

"Whoah! Whoah, hey!" Grunting, Santana tightened her hold, fingers digging into Rachel's sweater. "Berry, _dammit_, you _know_ I'm gonna drop you the second you don't expect it."

"Sure," Rachel hummed, lips suddenly pressing into Santana's neck.

Knees weakening at the sudden soft assault, Santana shifted on her feet. Glancing up the street as she instinctively tilted her head to give Rachel more space, she allowed her eyes to close; fuck yeah, the group seemed to have stumbled around the corner. When teeth nipped under her jaw, she made a noise in the back of her throat.

"_Saaaaaaan_?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm hungry."

"Ohh, me too…" Santana hummed, turning her head to stare into Rachel's eyes, leaning down to kiss her, hands heading unerringly towards the hem of her dress, sliding along the swell of her lower back. "I wants me some hobbit…"

But Rachel was stepping back, hands coming up to halt Santana's journey. "I'm going to remember you _said _that," she smiled, pulling her hand back to wag a finger at Santana, then _actually fucking_ pressed that finger against Santana's lips to stop her protest, "But… But I mean _real _food. 7-_Eleven_ food."

"7-Eleven…?" As her tongue came off the top of her mouth due to the n in Eleven, Santana slipped it out, licking Rachel's finger. When the girl started but didn't take her finger away, Santana smirked, raising her hand off Rachel's hip to catch her wrist.

"S-_San_…?" Rachel swallowed, eyes large and dark as they stared up at her.

Tilting her head to the side, Santana parted her lips, closing them around Rachel's finger. Getting a better grip on her wrist, she grazed her teeth along the now gasping girl's finger, giving her a sharp nip when Rachel's other hand came up to squeeze tightly around her bicep.

Rachel's finger tasted slightly salty, slightly like Sprite and rum and Rachel, and Santana didn't hesitate to suck her middle finger into her mouth as well, sliding her tongue around it as Rachel reactively twitched.

"Santana, you…" Rachel trailed off, shifting, lips dropping open as her other hand dropped to press into Santana's abs to steady herself.

Closing her eyes as she drew more of her fingers into her mouth, Santana hummed in satisfaction as she could feel the tension radiating from Rachel's body vibrate against her hand cupping her hip. Yeah… She smirked mentally, nipping Rachel's fingers again when her head fell, forehead crashing into Santana's shoulder.

"You're not being _fair_," Rachel groaned, arm starting to shake.

Finally pulling Rachel's hand away from her mouth, making sure to scrape her teeth along her fingers on the way out, Santana leaned down, brushing her lips against Rachel's ear. "Of course not," she grinned, kissing along Rachel's jaw, hands pushing against Rachel's lower back to bring her flush against her body, "Can you honestly tell me you'd want me to?"

Rachel's lips opened under hers. "No…" she moaned, slinging her arms around Santana's neck, "No, that wouldn't… Be, uhm, be _you_." She sucked Santana's lower lip into her mouth.

Oh _god_… Rachel could _so_ totally kiss _so_ fucking _well_.

"You totally _are _kissing! Tina! They're fucking kissing!" Mike's loud voice suddenly erupted from behind them, and Santana jerked back as Rachel's teeth accidentally clamped down on her lip in fear. "Ah, dammit!" Santana spat, releasing Rachel to slap a hand to her mouth, feeling the telltale stinging that confirmed what she feared even as her tongue swept up a drop of blood, "_Fuck_, you got me."

"Oh my god," Rachel gasped, hands coming up to her mouth before moving one forward to rub up and down Santana's shoulder, bending down to look at her face, "Santana, I'm _so_ _sorry_."

"Uhn uhn." Shaking her head and wagging her hand, Santana hissed and pulled her fingers back to see how bloody they were, calming down a little as only a slight red stain showed. "Not your fault," she mumbled, whirling around to advance on Mike. _Fuck_, she'd completely forgotten the Asian Fusion Twins were still behind them. Well, do you blame her?

Anyway. "See this?" Santana growled, hand up, glaring at the boy, getting some humor out of the fact that Tina practically scrambled from his side to join Rachel, "_You_ did this."

His eyes widening with slow, drunken fear, Mike raised his hands, taking a step back. "Santana. Come on. I'm sorry. But… Like…" A wide, knowing smile smirked across his face, "You were kissing Rachel!"

"Yeah, when did that happen?" Tina asked Rachel, a smile evident in Rachel's voice when she giggled, "Tonight. And she's _so _good at it. You ever kiss her?"

"_No_!" Santana and Mike shot out at the same time, heads snapping around to stare at Rachel and Tina before looking back at each other. "…Right?" Mike finished, eyebrows high on his head as he stared at Santana.

Even through the small pain in her lip, Santana found herself chuckling. Relaxing and tossing her hair, she licked her lip again before waving her hand. "You're safe, Changster. I haven't and am never planning on macking on your second cousin twice removed or whatever."

Rachel leaned in close to Tina, failing miserably at whispering softly, "_Are_ you related?"

Not bothering to listen to the ex-goth's answer, Santana pressed her finger to her lip again. It seemed to stop bleeding, but _dammit_, the shit was still annoying. Stupid fucking Mike. Santana had been _getting_ somewhere with the hot damn fine piece of ass that Rachel had turned out to be!

Though, she told herself, reassuring herself with a mental smirk, looking up to find Rachel chatting excitably with Tina and Mike, it wasn't like there wasn't the rest of the evening stretching forward, right? And fuck yeah. Nothing said that after 7-Eleven there _wouldn't_ be more drunken adventures. So.

"Hey!" she raised her voice, "_Losers_. We have a place to get to, don't we?"


End file.
